


Meeting of the Minds

by Hellaoldfander86



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Based on a Tumblr Post, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Original Character(s), Poisoning, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:18:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellaoldfander86/pseuds/Hellaoldfander86
Summary: A beaten and bloodied hero pays a visit to his arch-nemesis.





	Meeting of the Minds

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I can't do this anymore](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/435739) by @messythoughtsandscribbledplots. 
  * Inspired by [A Hero's Rescue](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/435742) by stillebesat. 



> This has been sitting in my Google Docs for a while. Decided to just post the thing.

The “villain” dubbed Deceit by the local news outlets jotted down notes at his desk as a video of his last clash with his arch-nemesis, Logic played on the screen of his computer.

Nodding with satisfaction, he adds one last note and moves to the computer's mouse to close the program, but is interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom from the front gate to his estate. 

Pressing the intercom button on the phone on his desk, he evenly responds, “Yes, what is it?” He didn't remember any guests or deliveries being scheduled, and was a bit curious, yet suspicious.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir. But there is a man who says he needs to see you. He says his name is Logic.” The guards voice reports over the device.

The villain's eyes widen, and quickly responds, “Bring him up. I will meet you at the front door.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard replies, and the intercom falls silent.

Deceit exits his study, grabbing his signature cape and donning it with a practiced swirl as he strides to the front door to his large home. Stopping at a side table next to the large door to put on his mask, gloves and bowler hat that rested there, he glances at the mirror next to the table and adjusted the mask slightly so no sign of his “disfigurement” could be seen. He tugs on the cuffs of his gloves nervously, and opens the door.

Before him stands a disheveled, bloodied Logic, dark blue and black costume ripped in several places, one sleeve of his jacket barely attached by a thread bookended by the two large gate guards.

Before Deceit can take a breath to demand an explanation, the injured man spoke in a faint, trembling voice. “They didn't do this, someone else did.” As the hero hangs his head in fatigue.

Deceit dismisses the guards with a wave of his hand, and uses a gloved hand under the chin of the injured man to coax him to look up at him. “ Why did you come here, instead of tending to your injuries at home?” 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Deceit stared in shock at the hero, standing uninvited in front of the villain's home, weak and trembling in the cold. 

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to keep fighting. Just... just k-kill me. Or lock me up. Or whatever you’ve been planning this whole time, I don’t care. But I can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t... I can’t keep fighting you—“ Logic's breath hitches, as he fights back a sob.

Deceit's heart melted at the sight, the shaking hero, pale and exhausted and on the verge of tears.

“Hush, little hero, who did this to you?” Logic flinched at the sound of Deceit’s smooth voice, their eyes going wide behind the mirrored visor as they were pulled into the villain’s arms. “Come in and have a cup of tea, I promise you’ll be safe here. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

Deceit steers the injured hero into his home, closing the door behind them, and ushers him towards his den, settling the hero in a plush chair near the fire, and rings for his butler, who arrives within moments of the summons.

“Thomas, get me the first aid kit and we will take tea here next to the fire.” Deceit instructs the butler as he takes off his gloves and hat along with his cape and hands them to the waiting man. “Yes, sir.” The butler says with a small bow and leaves the room.

Deceit grabs the thick, plush blanket draped over the back of his chair and wraps it around Logic's shoulders, then settles into the chair across from the battered hero and simply looks at the man before him.

Disheveled hair, a split lip, and the hero's mirrored visor mask is all he can see as Logic gathers the blanket around him. Scraped knuckles adorn the hands clutching the blanket, as the hero pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Thomas re-appears, setting a tray with a porcelain tea set down on the table next to Deceit, and slips the strap of a field med kit off his shoulder and hands it to his employer. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“This is quite satisfactory, Thomas. That will be all for now.” Deceit says as he sets the med kit down to pour the tea. 

The butler bows, and Logic swears he saw the shimmer of scales on the man's neck in the firelight. “Yes, sir.” The butler swiftly turns, and before leaving, winks at the hero with a small smile before striding from the room.

“How do you take your tea, Logic? One lump or two, or do you prefer honey?” Deceit asks.

“One lump is adequate.” Logic softly responds as he reaches up to his visor mask, and to Deceits surprise, pulls it off, revealing two red-rimmed brown eyes. Dropping the visor to the floor, he reaches into his tattered jacket and produces a pair of glasses with thick black frames that survived unbroken somehow and slides them on his face. Deceit looks into Logic’s eyes as he hands the teacup to the battered hero and leans back into his chair with his own teacup as he realizes that he recognizes the broken man sitting before him.

“Logan Spaulding.” Deceit murmurs. “I know of you. You hold several doctorates and probably have a IQ higher than the entire mayor’s office combined. I have read all of your published papers. Why do you moonlight as the hero “Logic”? You can just sit in a lab, working for the betterment of mankind instead of hacking computer networks, making gadgets, catching cars and falling rubble with your telekinesis, and being the forensic lab for the other so-called heros this city has to offer. You waste your potential.”

Logan takes a sip of the tea and winces as his split lip objects to the movement. “I am surprised that you know who I am.”

Deceit chuckles. “We could have eventually been colleagues, or even possibly friends, if I hadn’t had my...accident.” He says as he motions toward his mask covered face. “I was the foremost authority on herpetology, with snakes as my focus. They are fascinating creatures. I also was well respected in the genetics and chemistry fields. I was so close to a genetic regeneration breakthrough before my work was stolen and my last experiment explosively sabotaged, injuring me and my lab assistant.”

“You are Drake Conroy. I should have been able to piece it together sooner.” Logan drinks the rest of his tea and sets the cup down on the small side table, wincing as his bruised body complains. “You signed everything you sent to your former employer with D.C., and on every device you used in your attempts to destroy their computers or labs. I noticed that everything you did was only against your former employer and their satellite labs and offices and no one else.”

Deceit downs his tea in one gulp and sets the cup down on the tray. “They need to be held accountable for their treasonous actions. They took my life’s work and tossed me aside like garbage. I have every right to be angry.” Deceit reaches down and grabs the med kit. “Let’s take a look at your injuries, shall we?”

Deceit starts with Logan’s face, taking stock of the minor abrasions, and the split lip, he moves down to the neck, watching Logan’s face for pain indications the entire time. As he raises Logic’s left arm, the hero winces and hisses in pain, and gets the same response when he checks the torso.”I think we should go to my lab. I can do a full body scan there so I will know the full extent of your injuries.”

“You have a body scanner? Wait, you stole it didn’t you?” Logan weakly says as Deceit helps him stand and carefully helps him walk to a nearby elevator.

“Of course, do you think that warehouse I destroyed last week held nothing of value? I got some wonderful brand new state-of-the-art lab equipment on my former employer’s dime. They were none the wiser. They probably think it was all destroyed, and already have received the insurance check.” Deceit chuckles as the hero looks at him with wide eyes. “I could afford to pay for it myself, of course. But it was just so satisfying to just steal it.”

The elevator door opens and Deceit carefully ushers him into a brightly lit and well-organized lab. A young assistant quickly approaches. “Dr. Conroy! Let me help you.”

“Careful of his left arm, Joan. We need to get him to the scanner.” Deceit instructs the assistant as they take Logan over to an examination table, the assistant carefully helping the hero with the task of sitting on the table, and gingerly helping Logan with taking off the tattered dark blue and black jacket, leaving the hero with only a blue undershirt, and helps Logan lay down on the table, grabbing a small pillow from a storage bin on the bottom of the table and quickly putting it under the hero's head as he laid down.

Deceit was powering up the scanner nearby, and as the system booted up, he positions the scanner in it’s starting position above Logan’s head. “Logan, this is Joan. They are my faithful lab assistant, and will be assisting me in your scan. Say hello, Joan.”

“Hello! It is good to meet you, Logan.” Joan says as they offer a hand for a handshake. Logan takes the offered hand and notices smooth green and yellow scales on the back, while giving the assistant a small smile. “A pleasure.”

Logan looks over at Deceit. “I have taken off my mask, why are you still wearing yours?”

Deceit flips some switches on the scanner and turns on the monitor that would display the scan findings. “I am a creature of habit, I’m afraid. If those idiots in the news outlets got a picture of my uncovered face, they would be even more adamant about the ridiculous name they have saddled me with.”

“They made up the name Deceit? Oh, wait. D.C. could easily be twisted by those idiot talking heads. My apologies.” Logan murmurs. “I would still like to see you, your secret is safe with me, I am at your mercy, remember.”

“Yes, you are. So be it.” Deceit grabs the bottom of his mask and pulls it off, showing the injured hero his guarded secret. The left side of his face was covered in yellow and green scales, with his left eye snake-like and yellow. “Behold, the lengths that Sanders Labs would go to steal my life’s work. I think they thought the explosion would kill me, but there was only flying glass and my genetic regeneration serum, Inland Taipei genetic material from another experiment and several other compounds in the destroyed glass beakers that infiltrated the cuts and burns on the left side of my body and eye that caused this. I was saved by the inept positioning of the explosive device. Joan only received burns on their arm and hand helping me out of the burning lab, but the experimental compounds soaking my clothes also got into their burns. They can cover their arm, and live a relatively normal life. My face is a more prominent feature. I rarely leave the house now.”

“Now I know why you preferred to work at night.” Logan whispers. Raising his right hand to touch the smooth scales on Deceits face. Deceit lets it happen without flinching, feels the touch, feather light, then is gone.

“Let us scan you now, shall we?” Deceit says after clearing his throat and pushes a series of buttons, then slowly moves the scanner over Logan’s body, glancing at the monitor occasionally.

“No permanent head trauma, neck looks good, rotator cuff on left arm is torn, right arm is okay, bruised ribs...oh, no.” Deceit stares at the monitor, then whispers to Joan, and the assistant scurries over to a workstation and retrieves a new needle and blood sample vials from the supplies there. “Stay still, they need to take some blood samples.”

Joan deftly and painlessly collects the samples, and quickly strolls over to a complicated machine and inserts a vial, and the machine immediately begins analyzing the blood. A few minutes later, a readout is printed, and handed to Deceit, who reads it and winces, glancing over at Logan with panic in their eyes.

“What did you find? What is going on?” Logan says with wide eyes as Deceit looks at him.

“Who did you fight that brought you to my doorstep, Logan. Don’t leave anything out.” Deceit sternly states, all business as he holds the readout in his hand.

Logic blinks and takes as deep a breath that he could manage with his bruised ribs. “I had to defuse a rather complicated bomb at the diamond exchange, so I had to do it in person since Prince or Morality claimed that they didn’t want to do it, when this mysterious individual jumped me with two others and proceeded to beat the hell out of me. I am not used to physical altercations, so it was a rather easy fight to win. I was taken completely unaware, I couldn't even use my telekinesis. Then I felt something sting me as I lay barely conscious on the ground. When I came to, I made the decision to put myself at your mercy since I had inadvertently read your mind and pulled your address from your thoughts after one of our exchanges last week, and we seem to have mutual respect for one another.” Logan quickly says, slightly panicked.

“You have been poisoned by boomslang venom.” Deceit says. “The people who beat you up wanted you to die an unpleasant death, it seems. It may even have been a hit.” 

“The venom is hemotoxic, which destroys red blood cells and disrupts the clotting process. I will die of tissue and organ degeneration and internal bleeding.” Logan says with tears of panic welling in his eyes. “I don’t want to die, not like this.”

“Boomslangs are native to sub-Saharan Africa, meaning there is no anti-venom readily available here, and I won’t be getting a specimen until next week, so I wouldn't be able to make anti-venom until it is too late for you. I told you that they will not hurt you anymore when you appeared on my doorstep, I intend to help you by any means necessary. Luckily, boomslang venom works slowly, and you came here for help. You will not die. Not in my lab.” Deceit states with anger flashing in his yellow eye. He directs Joan to start an I.V. as he walks over to a small storage cabinet.

“I was recently able to steal back my research, and that is how I am going to save you. I know you noticed Thomases neck. He had burned his hand rather badly one day, as in so bad, he would have lost fingers if he went to a conventional hospital. He came to me, and I was able to heal him. The only side-effect is the scales you undoubtedly saw.” 

“You see, my genetic work included the study of the ability of some lizards to regenerate their tails after they have detached them to keep a predator busy as they make their getaway. I was working to apply that regenerative affect to humans during my last experiment. Strangely enough, the explosion combined the correct materials, but I do not know which were the correct ones, and which are just there to apply unwanted side effects. I am forced to combine everything that was on the table, including snake genetic material. I am working to narrow it down, but I have just started, and I only just recently received the correct equipment to do so. The only thing that I have concluded is that the type of snake genetics do not matter, but it will not work correctly without them at the moment.”

“As a kind of odd hobby, I made serums based on all the heroes of this fair city, using samples from snakes that fit their “signature colors”. This is yours. It has Blue Racer and Black Phase white-lipped python samples in it, along with the regenerative and healing serum we will add just before we administer it, because that needs to be freshly made. I do have a little Boomslang genetics in my samples to add to help nullify the venom as well. Are you willing to let me administer this serum to save your life, regardless of any side-effects? This is still very experimental.” Deceit asks, holding the bottle so Logan could see it.

Logan looks at the bottle in Deceits hand, weighing the pros and cons. Pros: he would not die a horrible death. Cons: he could possibly have snake scales on his body. The “not dying a horrible death” part outweighed the cons by a few tons. “Do it.”

Deceit nods and simply says “Restraints, please, Joan.” And Joan appears at Logan’s side, attaching padded wrist and ankle restraints to the table, and proceeding to restrain the hero to the table.

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself even more that you already are.” Deceit says as he works at a nearby counter. “It is simply for your safety. We don’t want you to thrash about and cause more trauma to yourself.” Deceit walks over to the restrained hero, and injects a large syringe full of the prepared serum into the top port of the I.V. bag attached to Logan’s arm and adjusts the flow to go faster. “It will begin soon. I will give you a sedative.” He then prepares another syringe, and injects it at the port nearest Logan’s arm. The heroes eyes flutter closed, as the sedative takes effect.

Joan cuts off the remains of the heroes shirt, and they notice the bruises on the pale torso. “Who do you think did this to him?” Joan asks with a whisper as they take Logan’s glasses off the sedated hero and attach heart monitor electrodes to the pale chest, and begin to hear the steady beeping of the heroes strong heart.

“I do not know, my friend. But when he awakes, we will find out together.” Deceit replies, while watching the bruises begin to fade as the serum takes effect, and a small patch of iridescent shimmering dark blue scales slowly appear under Logan’s right eye.


End file.
